


Loyalty

by prosperjade



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosperjade/pseuds/prosperjade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want very much for you to be happy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loyalty

Azure eyes roved the flowers at her hand, gentle fingers caressing petals of tantalizing velvet. The striking effervescence of vibrant hues captivated Margaery’s gaze, drawing her to the subtle tones of a rose captured by the wind’s forceful might. 

It was small, delicate, overlooked by the nurturing touch of the servant that tended to the gardens. The rose bore colors of cream, tinged with the slightest edge of an invading orange, rivaling the vivacious pigments of the setting sun at their backs. 

The flower was deceptively beautiful, beckoning curiosity only for it to be betrayed by the bite of thorns at a strong stem. Margaery winced as a honed talon met her skin, drawing blood from the ivory surface. A smile played at her lips as her thoughts drifted to the girl behind her, observing in a practiced silence. 

Margaery’s heart leapt slightly as she felt Sansa’s eyes bore into her with unspoken question, reluctant to coax the older girl from her reverie. The young Tyrell tenderly caressed the edge of a petal, stealing a glance to the mesmerizing shades of Sansa’s hair. 

Margaery boldly plucked the flower from its foundation, breaking its stubborn grip. She turned, placing her gift in the cradle of Sansa’s palm. It was a quiet vow of loyalty, of faith, of a devotion that she knew society would refuse to indulge. 

It was a prayer that Sansa would grow with the strength of the rose, with barbs that would protect herself when Margaery couldn’t. 

The young Tyrell’s grin grew.

A flower with a flower.


End file.
